The Girl In The Background - A Young Sherlock Holmes Story
by SherlockedSherlockian
Summary: Set in the universe of Andrew Lane's YOUNG SHERLOCK HOLMES, this story follows a girl called Rosella as she comes to realise her own affection for Sherlock Holmes, the young genius who has her quite besotted. However, it seems everyone can see her feelings clearly, except Sherlock himself. How will she ever get noticed if she's just the girl in the background? Contains much fluff.
1. The Autumn Ball

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 1)

_"Your brother's here," I smiled, taking the little girl's hand. Lily Holmes smiled up at me fondly, her thick eyelashes fluttering. She tugged her babysitter and part-time governess to the door – that babysitter and part-time governess who, in fact, was I. Opening the heavy oaken door to my manor, my eyes rested upon the boy standing before me, right on time as usual to pick up his sister. I would never get tired of seeing his handsome, smiling face. He was fourteen, just as I was, maybe a month or so older. His jet black hair was thick and silky, draping slightly into his forehead. I have no idea how long I have wanted to run my fingers through those shiny, luxuriant locks, but I quickly shook the thought from my head when I realised I was staring. _

_Piercing, stormy grey eyes met mine, and I could not help but lose myself in them. "Rosella," his voice is low and deep and contemplative – a rare baritone I could recognise anywhere. "Sherlock," I smiled, "how are you?"_

"Very well, thank you," he smiled back with a winning grin, taking my hand gently in his own and kissing it. His proper Victorian manners are just one of the many things I admire about him. I felt a light blush creep into my cheeks and my smile widened, "And yourself, Rosella?" "Good, thank _you_," I responded, looking down at his little sister who had by now attached herself to my dress. I laughed a little and shook my head fondly, patting her back, "Come on Lily, time to go home." I said.

The girl gave a small whine and clung tighter to the skirt of my violet gown, "Can't I walk with you?" "I have work to do, and your brother has a party to attend, I believe." I looked up at Sherlock, waiting to say goodbye, when I heard a small gasp at my side, "You're not coming to the ball with Sherlock?" My smile faltered, and I felt myself chewing on my lower lip, "No. No – I believe your brother is taking Virginia."

Instantly, Lily's face twisted into one of distaste, "Virginia Crowe?" she frowned, looking up at her elder brother, "Sherlock, I can't believe you didn't ask Rosella! And I can't believe no one else asked you!" It was Sherlock's turn to flush crimson. "Ro, I'm so sorry, I – " "It's no matter at all!" I interrupted, shaking my head profusely, "It's fine, I'm busy anyway…"

"No you're not!" Lily cut in with a decided voice, "You can still come with us, I know you want to." "Lily," I said sternly, giving her a pointed look, "it's time you went home; you'll be leaving for the party soon. Even if I wanted to come, I'm not dressed." "You can just come in what you're wearing. You always look beautiful," she smiled sweetly, taking my hand in her own smaller one and giving it a squeeze, "doesn't she, Sherlock?"

Her brother cast his gaze on the floor, clearing his throat nervously, "Yes…yes, I'm sure she does."

I unconsciously turned away myself, putting a delicate hand on the edge of the doorway I was standing inside, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Sherlock?" He nodded, still seeming awkward. Lily and I were going to have a long talk about acting one's age the next day. "Yes – see you tomorrow," he offered an apologetic smile, which I returned with a reassuring one, giving the pair a final wave and watching the two Holmeses start down the carriageway. Lily turned back to blow me a kiss and wave sadly. I blew one back before closing the door, leaning heavily against it and letting out a long sigh, closing my eyes briefly.

I suppose it shouldn't have hurt deep down to know that Sherlock had not even mentioned the autumn ball which was being hosted in the local area. His Aunt had told me about it when I was helping her tend to the roses in the gardens of Holmes Manor, and I must admit that I had been foolish enough to let myself hope that Sherlock would have asked me to accompany him. We had known each other for more than two years and our parents had been good friends even before we had ever spoken. Not only did I act as governess to Sherlock's younger sister, but I also spent a lot of time helping his Uncle, Sherrinford Holmes, with much of his filing and writing in regards to his role as a religious scholar. This, of course, meant I whiled away a great deal of my time in their library with the raven-haired boy I had come to grow so attached to.

Pulling myself together, I picked up the pile of books Lily had asked me to read from. I looked over her choices with a smile – Dickens, Conan Doyle and even Shakespeare – the last of which she was least fond, seemingly because of the unhappy endings. Slowly, I slipped them back into the gaps they had left on my bookcase, wishing I could only close these gaps in my heart. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw was those sharp, familiar features – his cheeky, knowing grin as he read my thoughts before I spoke them, and I let out a shaky breath. He would never feel the same way about me as I did about him. The sooner I accepted that, the better.

I was startled from my thoughts as I heard a knock on the door again, and I hurried down the stairs to pull it open. "Matty," I smiled brightly, laughing at Matthew Arnatt's expression of unabashed surprise as his eyes settled upon me, "you look like you've seen a ghost. Am I out of place in my own home?" I stepped back to let him in, and as he walked past me he still looked confused, "Nah… it's just that…it's not like you to be late, that's all." "Late?" it was my turn to look lost.

"For the Farnham autumn ball – I didn't expect to find you home. I was going to give this to your housekeeper for you," he waved a map in explanation. I averted my gaze, shaking my head, "Oh, yes…the autumn ball. I'm not going." I said in a quiet voice. This time, Matthew – or, Matty, as Sherlock and I (being his only real friends in years) have the permission to call him – looked more shocked than surprised.

"Oh? You turned Sherlock down? It's probably out of my place to ask why, but – " "Matty," I broke in softly, my tone cutting off his rant, "he's taking Virginia. I didn't get asked." I suppose that was because most people would think the youngest of the Holmes brothers would be escorting me anyway – we were usually together most of the time and I even had the privilege to join him on some of his adventures, along with Matty Arnatt and his violin teacher, Mr Rufus Stone.

The boy opened his mouth and closed it again, doing a notable expression of a goldfish. "I…he…what?" staring at me and looking truly dumbfounded, it took him a moment to realise what I had actually said. Instantly, his face set. "_He didn't ask you_?" he seethed, eyes narrowed, "That ungrateful sod! You do everythin' for him. Who does he imagine takes care of his sister and makes sure his maids make his breakfast right every mornin'?" "It doesn't matter, really. I didn't expect him to ask, he's not like that."

"Darn right he ain't! I've never seen nobody use somebody like that. You have rights too! And to take _Virginia _of all people…all she does is career around the woods on that horse of hers. She's useless." "Matthew Arnatt!" I reprimanded, looking unimpressed, "You shouldn't talk about people like that." "But it's true!" he protested with a huff, burying his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He looked me over with a thoughtful expression, before a determined look flashed into his coppery eyes, "You know what, you're goin' with me!" he announced, offering a smile, "And no buts. If you want to go change, you can – I'll only give you ten minutes though, can't wait forever." "But Matthew…" "No buts, didn' I say that? Off you go, now!"

The room fell silent as I stepped into the main hall, all eyes turning to me and the boy whose arm I was on. Matty quirked a smile at the staring crowd, leading me past the guests into the main corridor which had been lined with exquisite paintings and rare pieces of art. My dress, which flowed down past my ankles, started as a deep wine red at the bodice and melted into a light reddish-pink hue towards the bottom of the skirt, was done up with a golden sash which matched the hairpin in my ebony hair.

"You look gorgeous," my friend grinned from beside me, and I allowed myself a small smile in return. Before I could answer, though, I felt a familiar tug on the skirt of my ball gown. "Hello, Lily," I said brightly, leaning down to scoop her up into my arms, "are you enjoying yourself?" "I am now that you're here!" she announced, wrapping her arms around my neck. Smiling genuinely, I nuzzled her cheek with my nose, gently and affectionately. "Well, it's good Matthew convinced me to come then, isn't it?" She nodded, giving the named boy a happy wave.

"Lily! Lilly! For goodness' sake – I told you to stay close!" looking flustered, Sherlock ran into the corridor, almost colliding with me in his worry. When he saw me, though, he managed to come to an abrupt halt just in time. "Oh, Rosella…hello. It's nice to see you." Looking up at his sister, he rolled his eyes, "Come down here, Lily," but though he offered his arms to her, she shook her head and buried herself deeper against my shoulder. Shrugging, he turned to face me, "Well, I feel popular. So, you came after all?"

"She did – _with me_." Matthew piped up suddenly, coming to stand beside me almost defiantly, "Where's Virginia?" I noticed Sherlock retract a bit at his icy tone, and I laid a soothing hand on Matthew's shoulder, forcing him to calm down a bit. After a moment, Sherlock spoke, "Off dancing I think. Not my sort of thing." Meanwhile, I managed to peel the child off my shoulder and hand her over to her brother – much to her apparent dislike – before I nervously folded my arms. "Maybe you should go find her. I know you're a good dancer – you're good at everything – and I'm certain you two have danced before."

"Thank you, but I'm not really in the mood," he shrugged nonchalantly, though I could see he was torn between glowing with praise from the compliment and admitting that perhaps Virginia had already found a dance partner. If only he could see how well I knew him – I had him memorised inside out, and I probably understood him better than I understood myself, which was the opposite of an easy task. Seeing that I was mentally absent, he smiled, tilting his head to catch my gaze, "What're you thinking about?"

"Oh! Me? Nothing…" I was aware of my face rapidly turning red as I cast my eyes to the ground, "I mean…nothing important." "Right," he grinned, laughing lightly, "I suppose that'll have to be a sufficient answer for now. Anyway, how would you like to join me on a tour of the grounds?" it took a moment for me to realise that the question was directed at me, and I truly did not know how to answer it. Thankfully, Matty stepped in to save the situation. "I believe that honour will have to be mine," the boy said, linking his arm protectively back through my own, "after all, I did bring her myself."

"Yes…of course, sorry." Sherlock answered, realising he had been speaking out of place. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" The boy nodded quickly, but I could see the flash of inner conflict in his eyes. He was always alright – always saying he was fine, just because he was not used to anyone asking him how he was anyway. Except for me, of course, but I suppose I didn't count.

As I watched him walk away to find Virginia, I could not help the way my heart skipped a beat – a result of my own inner battle and affection deciding to voice themselves at once. He would never understand how much I loved him, he would never believe it. Perhaps I would never be able to tell him how I felt either, because just maybe he was somebody else's before I even had a chance to make him mine. I would always be the girl in the background, surrounded by the happiness that would never be mine.

In the midst of all my thoughts, I felt a tug on my hand. "Come on," Matty said quietly, "let's go, Rosella."


	2. Accepting Care

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 2)

I gave Lily a little wave as she took Sherlock's hand, and her brother gave me a grateful smile, "Thank you for this, it was so unexpected – "  
"Anytime," I answered, smiling softly and airing it off. "I'll see you later."  
Sherlock's piercing gaze met mine for a moment, and he nodded, "You too," he said gently, giving my hand a little kiss as always, "good evening." With that, he turned and walked down the carriageway, talking with his younger sister. I closed the door and went upstairs to my room. I wasn't feeling very well. I rarely fell ill, but I think I somehow had, and Sherlock might have noticed. He always does notice everything – in fact, he knows me inside out.

"_Is she okay?! Please tell me she's okay!" Sherlock gasped, looking at Matthew with concern in his eyes.  
"She's fine, yeah, just come down with the flu, I think." Matty answered, watching the worried expression on his friend's face. Sherlock grabbed his jacket from the coatrack, dashing to the door, "I've got to go see her. I'll be back soon, I hope." Without another word, he disappeared from the Manor, running the whole way to his friend's estate. _

"Sherlock? Hey." My voice sounded a mixture between happy and exhausted, and I wished it sounded livelier like usual. "Anything I can help you with?" The boy before me shook his head, for the first time, in response to that question. Gently, he touched the back of his hand to my forehead, "Rosella, you're running a fever. You shouldn't be up at all." His voice was gentle as I stepped back to let him in, curious as to why he was here. He never visited unless he needed my help with something.

Closing the door, I shrugged lightly, "No, it's alright. Somebody's got to do the work. The maids are out doing the shopping." Sherlock frowned slightly, shaking his head, and the almost imperceptible crease of worry in his brow made my heart stop for a moment. "You need rest," he said, taking my hand, "have you eaten?" I never lied to him, I could not bring myself to do so, so I gave him an honest answer, "No – not as yet, but I'm not feeling hungry." Truly tired, I sunk down onto the settee, sighing a little. My head ached and my eyes had been struggling to stay closed, although that was improving with my friend's presence.

"May I?"  
"Of course." I nodded slightly and he took a seat beside me, and I felt a gentle arm around my waist.  
"Can I make you lunch today? You've cooked for me plenty in the past."  
"No, it's not necessary. I'm perfectly fine." I took the opportunity to rest my head on his shoulder, surprised by his sudden sympathy and care. I supposed it wouldn't last, and I might as well enjoy the illusion that he worried about me while it lasted. In truth, he must just have felt it his duty to show some concern.

He answered that with silence, just holding me for a while, before he got up and walked into the kitchen. I would have followed after, and perhaps protested, but in my condition I was feeling too tired and weak to do so. I knew he was taking advantage of that. He left me feeling warm and comfortable and I cannot say how long it was that I stayed as he left me, curled up against the backrest. I was shivering slightly when I was woken from my partially-asleep state by a light clink of china.

I hadn't seen him come in, or heard him – he was light and could move so elegantly without making a single sound, which was, without a doubt, imperative for his cases. Now he sat down by me with a bowl of freshly-made soup and a silver spoon in his hand. My cheeks coloured as I looked up at him, "You truly didn't have to, you know."  
"I am aware of that, yes, but I wanted to. You need some looking after, for a change."

He gave me a gentle smile and dipped the spoon in, then held it to my lips. "Come on, humour me."  
"If you so wish," with a smile of my own, I accepted the spoonful, more than pleasantly surprised by its taste.  
"How is it?" he asked anxiously, trying to read my judgement in my expression.  
"Absolutely delicious, Sherlock! I had no idea you were such a wonderful chef." I answered sincerely, and he smiled shyly, nodding his thanks and hastily offering me another spoonful.

A quarter of an hour later, I was not aware that, fed and cared for, I had fallen into a peaceful sleep in Sherlock's arms. I was not even aware, as I slept, of the strong but gentle arms that swept me up and carried me upstairs, then laid me down in my own bed. Standing there, Sherlock watched me shiver in my sleep, but the extra blankets which he added to my shaking form did not help. And so, softened by the sight, he toed off his shoes and slipped into bed beside me, leaving his jacket on the chair.

_Looking at the sleeping girl he trusted and depended on for taking care of his little sister, the beautiful young girl who was always there no matter what, he couldn't leave her just then. Rosella, whom he rarely paid any extra attention to and whom, despite this, was always saying yes to anything he asked of her – was a miracle, and Sherlock knew that he was lucky to have her in his life. He didn't like seeing her like this, sick and worn out. His heart ached with an unfamiliar pain and he just wanted her to be better, to see her smile genuinely again._

When he gently wrapped his arms around me and drew me into his chest, my eyes opened slightly as I was partly awakened from my slumber. "Sh…Sherlock?" "Hush, it's alright, I'm here," he whispered reassuringly, kissing my forehead tenderly. His voice was smooth and consoling, and I could do little but nod in agreement. My trembling stopped altogether in his warm embrace, and I moved closer into his arms. "Won't you get sick too?" I whispered into his neck.

"I never get sick, you know that. Immune system of iron, Matthew says. Just relax, and try and get some sleep, alright?"  
"Alright." I wrapped my arms around him too, answering his protective, almost possessive embrace. My eyes fell closed again, and I knew I would think this all a dream in the morning.


	3. May I Have This Dance?

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 3)

When my eyes blinked open the next morning, the first things I registered were warm arms around me and a strong, firm chest against my cheek. "Mmh…Sherlock. Good morning." I looked up at my friend with cheeks flushed from warmth and sleep. Slowly, I sat up, and he gave me a warm smile, grabbing my hand. "Stay," he whispered, and I just nodded, slipping back down into bed next to him. Sherlock looked positively gorgeous, with his straight, black hair tousled and his genuine smile. He turned onto his side and gave my forehead a tender, gentle kiss. "Good morning," he added.

Suppressing a soft yawn, I turned to face him. "Thanks for last night," I smiled, "I feel a lot better."  
"Good – that's…really good." He smiled back, and it made my heart flutter uncontrollably. Playing thoughtfully with my hair, he looked at the intricately carved grandfather clock standing against the wall. "Nine already? I should be getting back. Aunt Anna will be wondering where I am."

"Of course," I nodded, kissing his cheek softly, "would you like breakfast before you go?" He shook his head.  
"No, thank you. I ate yesterday," he answered, sitting up and running his fingers casually through his own hair. I looked up at him perhaps a little too adoringly, making him grin, "Will you be alright on your own?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, of course," I quickly sat up too, pinning up my hair and getting out of bed, "I'll, uhm – show you out, shall I?" Standing up, he straightened out his clothes and followed me to collect his jacket. I handed it to him with a smile, and stole another kiss to his cheek. Thanking me with a wink, he brushed my hand with his lips and then bolted off – possibly to get home before his aunt and uncle started worrying. I watched him with a fond smile until he was out of sight, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Wow. Had all that really happened?

The next morning, Sherlock came by to drop off his sister again. "Hi," I said, opening the door and giving him a warm smile.  
"Hello." He gently kissed my hand as always, eyes sparkling with mirth. "How are you feeling? Better, I presume?"  
"Much, thank you for asking." Lily looked between us with an absorbing expression, trying to make some connection, and I chuckled. Picking her up and resting her on my hip, I gave her cheek a brief nuzzle, "Hello, darling."

"Hello! Sherlock said you weren't well the day before yesterday, so he stayed the night with you. Are you okay?"  
"Absolutely fine, he took good care of me," I smiled, looking over at her brother, who had turned an adorable shade of red. "Sherlock – would you like to come in?" "I'm terribly sorry, but…" Lily gave him a pointed look, and he rephrased, "okay. Yes, I'd love to."

Laughing, I let him in too, and he gently closed the door behind him before following me in. "Make yourselves at home," I nodded, showing them into the drawing room. Even though it was early, the curtains were drawn there and a fire crackled in the hearth. A moment later, I joined them with tea for Sherlock and myself and freshly-made apple juice for his little sister.

Sherlock sat on the settee while I sat by his feet amongst a pile of cushions on the floor, and Lily sidled up to me with a small smile. "Rosella?" she asked in a small voice. "Mm?" I turned to her immediately, having been previously distracted by my friend's movements as he adjusted the cuff of his shirt.  
"Will you teach me to dance?" she asked. "You were really good at the ball. You taught Matty really quickly."

"I'd love to teach you," I smiled, "maybe when Matty comes over, I will."  
"Why can't you teach me now?"  
"Because you're so little, I need a dance partner to help me demonstrate," I laughed, watching a little pout appear on her face.  
"I'm _not _little. But anyway, Sherlock's here!" she said.

Her brother looked a bit flustered, "Ah – Lily, I'd love to help Rosella out, but I promised Virginia I would – "  
"_No_." Lily said stubbornly, shaking her head, "You're _not _going riding with Virginia today. If you leave, I'm not talking with you ever again." Exasperated, Sherlock huffed, "Fine, okay. Lily, I can just see you as one of those impossible suffragettes in the future."

Giggling with triumph, the cheeky little girl ran over and seated herself at my piano, and started playing. Sherlock shook his head with a fond smile and turned to me. I must have looked vacant – my mind was, in fact, elsewhere (perhaps for the knowledge that Sherlock would have much rather gone riding with Virginia if Lily had not made him stay) – for he gently took both of my hands in his, "In that case, may I have this dance?"

Looking up into his all-seeing grey eyes, I felt a smile tug at my lips and I nodded, allowing myself to be swept up into strong, protective arms as he brought us into sync with the gorgeous melody I had taught Lily to play. She, like Sherlock, was turning out to be a very talented musician. Could he really not know that I loved him, and had for years? If he knew, would he be disgusted? Perhaps he would never come see me again, if he found out. I didn't know what I would do if that happened.

Knowing the words to the song off by heart, and realising Lily was almost up to the chorus, I began singing softly.

"_Tell me why I'm not sleeping  
and my heart is leaping inside me…  
Could this be one of those times  
when your feelings decide?"_

To my surprise, Sherlock joined in, and his voice was smooth and perfect as ever;

"_I need to know these answers,  
I need to find my way…  
Seize my tomorrow,  
learn my yesterday.  
I need to take these chances,  
let all my feelings show…  
Can't tell what's waiting __**  
**__Still I need to go…  
I need to know…"_

* * *

**Hey everyone! Wow! I am really astounded by the response to this! GO YOUNG SHERLOCK FANS! :D Thank you all so much! I will try and update more often now that I am on holidays for a short time. In my Johnlock story, '**_**The Things I Do For You, Sherlock Holmes!**_**' I have given everyone who has reviewed, followed or favourited a mention so far. You guys are all amazing! Please check that story out – it's really fluffy and sweet (as I've been reliably informed ;) ), and I will update it soon! For my wonderful guest reviewers, thank you as well! Please PM me if you'd like to rp or co-author a fanfic with me, and to the lovely reviewer who asked: I will be reading Snakebite shortly. How is it?! By the way, the song in this chapter is called **_**I Need To Know**_**, by Melissa Lyons. Yours, SherlockedSherlockian xxx**


	4. I Would Advise You To Forget Him

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 4)

"Sherrinford! It is nice to see you! How are you keeping?"  
"Anna, dear! You look _wonderful, _how long has it been since we last did this? Three months?" I waited patiently by my parents' side as they greeted Sherlock's aunt and uncle. The adults had decided on our families spending the evening together and catching up after my father had been away on business in London for some time. As we walked into the large sitting room, I greeted Mycroft – Sherlock's elder brother – who had also returned from London, though only for a day or two.

As the housemaids came in with the tea, Sherlock arrived with Matty and Lily, speaking to the little girl about something evidently of great importance. Lily looked excited, Matthew looked smug and my best friend simply appeared externally indifferent – and perhaps, if I knew him well enough, eager to change the subject. However, when they saw me, they dropped the topic entirely. Joyously, the younger Holmes hopped into my lap, while Sherlock and Matthew both perched on the opposite arms of the chair I sat in. We all said our hellos, and the conversation moved drifted to the subjects of education, Sherlock's cases, and the new families in Farnham.

When the maids served dinner, we all sat in the dining hall at the rectangular table, with Sherrinford Holmes at the head on one end and my father, Robert, at the other. Aunt Anna and my mother sat to the right of both. While I was serving Lily, Sherlock and I both reached for the same dish at once, causing our hands to brush gently. He immediately pulled back, apologising and allowing me to go first. Nodding my thanks, I tried not to blush at his soft smile, remembering his visit and the dance he gave me earlier that morning. I quickly returned my attention to his little sister.

After dinner, we returned to the sitting room. Virginia had come with Amyus Crowe, Sherlock's tutor, to speak with Mycroft about some political affairs. Virginia now sat with Sherlock and Matthew in the chair I had previously occupied. As Lily had been taken for a bath by one of the housemaids, and my parents and Sherlock's aunt and uncle were deep in conversation, I sat alone by the fire, on the floor, watching the flames flicker and dance – each spark and cinder consumed by each other only to rise again. The epitome of resilience.

I do not know how long I sat there, but it was certainly over an hour, before I felt a hand on my shoulder. Woken from my vacant state, I looked over to see Sherlock sitting beside me, his back against the mantelpiece. "Hey," he said softly, "what are you thinking about?"  
"Nothing," I answered, and though it had not been my intention, I must have conveyed a withdrawn temperament or at least some discomfort at his presence, because he frowned and rested his hand back on my shoulder.

"What's the matter, Ro?"  
"I'm fine. Just please, leave me alone." I said softly, getting up and pulling away. I walked away from the others to stand at the half-open French windows, looking out at the starlit sky. I sighed a little, resting my head against the frame, knowing that I was being uncharacteristically introverted. I couldn't help myself. Why did Virginia have to come? And did I really mean so little that neither of my friends – let alone Virginia – had failed to say so much as a word to me in over an hour? Well, it didn't matter. Like I had realised so many times before, I was just the girl in the background.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" I spun around suddenly at the new voice, too surprised to be disappointed that it wasn't Sherlock.  
"Mr Stone," I nodded politely, greeting Sherlock's violin teacher, Mycroft's agent. After we exchanged the formalities, he came to stand a little closer.  
"Where's Sherlock?" he asked.  
"With the others, of course." I answered with a gentle shrug.  
"And pray, is it too intrusive to ask why you are not also with them?"

When I did not respond, he sighed heavily, following my gaze out of the window. "You are inordinately fond of him." Rufus Stone said at length, voice quiet. "I would advise you to forget him, Rosella. He is…different." I lost my composure.

"Do you think I don't know that?!" I retorted, more harshly than many would have imagined possible for someone with a nature such as mine, "And when, might I ask, did I request your advice?!" I was yelling, and when I realised that everyone was staring at me in surprise and concern, I have little idea what overcame me. I ran from the living room, ran from Holmes Manor, the world a blur as I sprinted the whole way home.

Getting home, I locked myself in my room, crying bitterly. I really had no idea what terrible fit had influenced me, but I expect it to have been the months of sadness and loneliness that I had hidden inside for so long. Before long, I fell into a deep and restless sleep, the salty streaks of tears down my cheeks.

I was not prepared for my morning awakening, and acted understandably in regards to my condition. "Sherlock! What do you think you are doing here…?! _Get out!_"_  
_"But I – "  
"I said _get out_!" Obediently, he dropped the bouquet of red roses he was carrying on my dressing table, and hurried from the room. Watching him go, I realised I was standing and my fists were clenched.

Swallowing, I fell back onto my bed, my eyes drifting to the sweet-smelling roses on the dresser. He had come to apologise, to make up with me. Why? He had done nothing wrong – the fault had been mine. Instantly, I felt guilty. Taking a deep breath, I got up again and put on my dressing gown, hoping to catch him before he left.

"Sherlock…" speaking softly, I came to stand by his side as he spoke to one of my maids, who promptly disappeared on my arrival. Turning to me, he breathed a sigh of relief, "Rosella! By Jove, I was so worried! Are you alright?"  
"Yes…" I said quietly, chewing on my lower lip, "…uhm…I wanted to say…thanks…for the flowers." I finished quite pathetically, folding my arms nervously in front of me. Sherlock looked me over with his piercing gaze, "You're not alright at all, are you, Rosella?"

"Sherlock, I don't need anyone to worry about me." I said assertively, so firmly that he couldn't argue, "I'm sorry about last night and this morning." Oh dear. Last night. That was when I remembered in detail what a fool I had made of myself the night before. My friend laid a gentle hand on my arm, "Don't worry. Mr Stone didn't breathe a word about whatever it was you quarrelled over, nor will I ask. Do you think…do you think you could come back to Holmes Manor with me? Matty told Lily what happened and…well. She would like to see you, to make sure you're okay."

"Oh." I said, face falling as realisation hit me, "Is that all you came for? Well then, thank Mr Stone for suggesting you bring the flowers and – "  
"Wait!" He cut me off, shaking his head, "That's not what I came for! I just came to see you, and as for the flowers…nobody suggested them, I…I thought it would be common courtesy to bring a bouquet, and I know you like roses…"

I just nodded, unsure of what to say. Before the silence became awkward, I broke it myself. "Of course. Let Lily know I'm on my way, I just need a few minutes to get dressed."  
"I'd be happy to wait for you – "  
"That won't be necessary, thank you for offering, Sherlock. I don't require an escort." Turning, I walked purposefully up the stairs to my room, Rufus Stone's words echoing in my head. _I would advise you to forget him, Rosella. I would advise you to forget him._

"Rosella!" Walking into Holmes Manor, I was drawn into a huge hug by Lily upon stepping foot inside.  
Aunt Anna was also there, talking quickly as per usual, "Oh, my dear Rosella! We were so worried! Worried sick! Are you okay? I do hope you are! We had no idea what happened, and Rufus won't – "  
"I'm okay, Mrs Holmes, thank you," I smiled sweetly, "and I'm sorry about – "

"No! There's not a thing to be sorry for!" she said, but was interrupted by a crash of metal pans, a noise emanating from the kitchen. "Oh! That new maid is a clumsy one!" Mind totally diverted, she bustled off again to rectify the damage. Sherlock stood up from his seat by the window, and walked over to me, standing close.  
"A woman of your word! Thank you for coming. I was afraid you wouldn't."

I took a small step away, responding simply, "I never go back on promises." Lily looked surprised by my behaviour, and a little disheartened. I think she understood what I planned to do – that being, of course, to take Mr Stone's advice and forget Sherlock. And then my friend acted unexpectedly, grabbing my arm despite being able to clearly see that I wanted space. I suppose his confusion and frustration with me had reached its highest point, and he turned me to face him with a pleading expression, "Please Rosella. Please talk to me."

* * *

**Hello to all my wonderful readers! Look at what you can accomplish within one day without the distraction of the internet! ;) Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and what you think/expect should or will happen next! **

**Also, to my treasured readers and followers, please drop me a PM or tell me in a review if you have any one-shot or story prompts/story lines {Johnlock, especially} that you would like me to write for you. My middle name is fluff, which just happens to be the best medicine for PRD (post-Reichenbach depression, of course). The next chapter will be up soon, but until then, I am sincerely yours,**

**SherlockedSherlockian xxx**

_**P.S. A HUGE SHOUTOUT TO ALL MY GUEST READERS/REVIEWERS! YOU MAKE MY DAY! If you want to rp/write a fanfiction with me, please leave your Tumblr or email address in a review and I will get back to you **__**prompt**__**ly 3 XD**_


	5. I Feel So Alone, Sometimes

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 5)

Looking at Sherlock, I felt myself go soft. "Alright," I said finally, "alright. Can we talk in private, please?"  
"Sure! Sure! We'll go up to the library!" he nodded vehemently upon my request, visibly grateful. Keeping his grip on my arm, he led me upstairs to his room in the loft, sitting me down on his bed. "So," he mumbled quietly, slipping an arm around my waist, "what's going on?"

Finding I needed it, I decided to accept the comfort, however long it lasted. Leaning into him, I cleared my throat nervously. "It's just, well…me, I suppose."  
"You?"  
"Mm. Me." I closed my eyes, feeling his gentle fingers soothingly caressing my waist. It was tender, and reassuring – enough so to make me continue. "I…I feel so alone, sometimes," I shrugged, trying to turn my feelings into comprehensive speech, "it's just…well, when it comes down to it, no one really cares about me. Not that I mind, I'm here to help others, but – "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sherlock cut me off before I could start rambling, shaking his head and frowning. "Who said nobody cares about you? I certainly do. And so does Matthew, and Vir- "  
"Don't lie."  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Matthew does care, a little. But you and Virginia definitely don't."

Sherlock looked at a loss for words, and I instantly regretted the harshness of my words, not for the first time in the last few days. Eventually, my friend broke the ensuing silence in a soft tone, "I'm sorry I've let you feel that way. Alone."  
"It's not your fault. As I told you, it's all me. I'm just stuck in this crazy head of mine." I tried laughing, but it fell flat.  
"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, "If you needed to talk about something troubling you, you could have just said so – and the offer still stands, of course."

"There's no need for me to trouble anyone else with my petty problems. Your time is precious, as is everyone else's."  
"And yours?"  
"I help other people. I assist your uncle when he needs it, I look after Lily and I review observations and links in cases for you. That's what gives me purpose, it's what I do. I'm happy this way, seeing others happy…being needed, if only for a little each day."  
"Sometimes the people who make others happy are the loneliest people of all."

This time, it was quite a while before the following silence was broken, now by myself. "Well, Sherlock…thank you for giving me your time, but you have things to do, and I should be getting home."  
"Are you certain? If not, we could go for a walk or something…just through the woods?"  
"I would love to, I really would, however I promised my maids I'd teach them a new recipe – and I expect Virginia is waiting to see you."

He sighed slowly, looking out the window and releasing me. "Of course." A moment later, his searching eyes met mine. "Shall I see you out?"  
Shaking my head, I rose to my feet. "I'm confident I can find my own way." I smiled politely, giving him a brief curtsey before turning and retracing my steps out the door and down the stairs.

Five minutes later, I stood outside Holmes Manor, taking an indulgent inhalation of the fresh Farnham air. I resumed my brisk walk back towards my home, mulling over what I had told him. What was it that I wanted? Surely not his love? Had I not come to accept that he would never care for me, that I was simply of practical use to him, as an overqualified governess for his sister? I scoffed at my own stupidity. I realised, though, that I could not do one thing. I could not forget him. Rufus Stone's advice had been correct, but I could not bring myself to heed it.

Forgetting Sherlock would be forgetting the one thing that ever mattered to me – releasing all that tied me to this world, this time, and my will to live. Already, I no longer cared what happened to me, but to forget him would be to let go completely. And that one thought – that one, single thought – achieved something not even the most notorious of men or menacing of obstacles could accomplish: that one thought made me fear. I was afraid of having no purpose…I was afraid of forgetting Sherlock Holmes.

Finding myself already home, I stepped inside my house and closed the door behind me, hurrying through the halls to be punctual as per my promised arrival in the kitchens of our home. Dismissing a question or two about my apparently clear state of unease, I began the lesson as promised. Little did I know that the dinner I was helping to prepare would be the one for which the Holmes family would be joining us – as a repayment for their kindness the night before.

* * *

_**Hello dear readers!  
I am so, so sorry this has taken so long! However, all your wonderful nagging has made me write this earlier than I was originally planning to. School assessments are unfortunately the cause for the delay, but I will attempt to get one chapter up per week. As usual, to all the people who have reviewed, followed, favourited, etc., I have mentioned you in my other story 'The Things I Do For You, Sherlock Holmes!' – the next chapter of which will be up in the next few days. Again, a huge thanks to all my guest readers – you have no idea what your reviews mean to me! They certainly help me to write faster. Thank you for everything, and happy reading!**_

_**Yours Always,**_

_**SherlockedSherlockian xxx**_


	6. A Daughter So Talented And Capable

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 6)

"Luciana, dear, the cooking is wonderful! You must tell me which house you employ your maids from, this is truly divine!" Aunt Anna exclaimed, as we sat around the table. Looking over at Sherlock, a smiled a little to see that he was actually eating properly for once. My mother answered his aunt in a proud voice, "Actually, today's meal was prepared by my daughter, as a lesson to our housemaids in the recipe."  
"She is a treasure indeed!" Sherrinford exclaimed, looking at me with a warm smile, "What I would give to have a daughter so talented and capable."

I felt myself burn with a blush as I kept my eyes on my food, not even daring to look up at Sherlock lest my pride turned to embarrassment. The rest of the meal went peacefully on after that, and soon, the adults retired to the sitting room while I took Lily upstairs to the library. Sherlock came in to join us shortly afterwards, carrying a single rose. Entering, he placed it on my desk with a hesitant smile, "Matty just called by, and said to give this to you."  
"Oh? That's sweet of him," I said, "Thank him for me, won't you? And thank you for bringing it up."

"It's no trouble," he answered with a smile, sitting down across from me once I had given him permission and selecting a book from the pile at his side. It was in Greek, but Sherlock had recently become fluent in the language at Mycroft's insistence. Eyes lighting up, Lily ran over to climb into his lap, wanting to be read to. Clearing my throat shyly, I stood, "Erm, well then…I'll leave you two to it. I should go check on the horses, seeing as though one of our stable boys has a day off today."

Sherlock looked up, forehead creasing with a slight frown, "Will you be back soon?"  
I shrugged, "It depends. I'll try."  
The boy bit his lip for a moment, gently and carefully placing Lily on the arm of the chair before he stood too, walking over to my side. "Rosella," he whispered, voice heavy with an emotion I could not put my finger on, "I'm not a fool, you know. I can see what you're doing. Please – please don't. Don't put this distance in between us right when you need me the most. We've known each other for so long…remember when we used to do everything together? We would spend hours just talking about cases, and education, and what we wanted to do when we got older. Where did all that go?"

I stared at him in confusion. "Where did all that go? _I'm _the one putting the distance in between us?! Sherlock…" my voice cracked at that point, and I turned away, shaking my head, "everything changed when you met Virginia. You used to come see me just to talk, or ask me a question, or just to sit in on Lily's lessons. Now you only visit when you need to. I understand that she's much more beautiful, more confident and much cleverer than I am – I understand she's your tutor's daughter and that she is much more interesting and fascinating than I'll ever be. But we used to at least be _friends_. Has she outdone me so much so that you need to be begged by your sister just to stay an hour in my presence? I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you anymore, but it's not me who has changed. It's you."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but promptly closed it again, looking at the floor. He couldn't deny any of that, and I felt a small sense of relief at finally voicing all that aloud. Lily was at my side in a second, pulling me down to wipe away my tears and purposefully leading me from the room. Despite myself, I looked at the scene from a third person's point of view and found it quite endearing, which was why I allowed myself to be led back to my room and sat down on the bed.

"Why don't you just tell him that you love him?" Lily asked, sitting next to me and taking my hand in her own little one.  
I looked at her with a sad smile, "It's a bit obvious, and if he hasn't said anything, I guess it means he loves somebody else."  
The little girl frowned, "Virginia is not prettier or cleverer or more confident than you! She's not more interesting than you, and everything else you said! You're the best."

Laughing lightly, I gave her a hug, "I believe your brother would disagree, but I'm glad _you_ think so, Lily."  
"No worries!" She pecked me on the cheek before standing, "I'm going to go ask Uncle and Aunty if I can stay here tonight." Before I could stop her, she was already hurrying back downstairs to the sitting room. As soon as her footsteps died away, I heard an all too familiar knock on the door. "Come in, Sherlock," I said softly.

When the dark-haired boy entered, I could tell immediately that, despite his best efforts to hide it, he had been crying. Worried now, I quickly drew him to sit down next to me, "Sherlock…I…I'm sorry. I've just been so sentimental about all this. Of course things are different now that you have someone more significant in your life. If you want your space, you can have it."

"Rosella!" he pleaded, shaking his head as tears started falling afresh. He rubbed them from his eyes in frustration, pulling me into a hug and burying his face into the crook of my neck. My breath caught briefly as I returned the hug, gently running my hand soothingly up and down his back, feeling the smooth material of his shirt and waistcoat beneath my palm and fingers.

"Rosella…you know I've never been good at emotions. I'm terrible at separating need from want and affection from flattery. Virginia…yes, she's bold and a good rider, and she's my tutor's daughter, but she's not you. And I can tell you honestly, when I spend too long with her, I start missing you. You're just so different – your smiles, and kindness, and empathy and conversations. I don't understand it – I don't understand _you_. I mean yes, I can read you, your thoughts and actions, but not you as a whole picture. How can someone be so perfect? You confuse me. You go against all logic and explanation; you've taken patience and reliability to ridiculous extremes. You've made me trust you despite all my reservations about relying on others."

My mind shut down as I listened, not believing what I was hearing. Too many thoughts and realisations crossed the threshold of my mind, too quickly for me to catch and elaborate on any. "I'm not perfect," I answered after a bit, swallowing thickly. I was aware that Lily would be returning soon, and did not wish her to find us like this, both in tears and looking so lost. She looked up to us both for having strong hearts and minds. Gently, I dried Sherlock's tears with one hand, while the other consolingly threaded through his gorgeous ebony hair. I remembered how I had always wanted to do this – and it felt better than I had ever imagined, even under these circumstances.

Sherlock shook his head slightly from its place tucked into my shoulder. "You are perfect…to me. You've no idea how many nights I've been up recently mulling over various questions, missing you, and wishing you were with me so that we could just talk like before, for hours and hours, without awkward silences and innuendo subtext. I've never thought of Virginia then. Just you."

After a small pause, during which I said nothing, he continued, "I've often thought that I couldn't imagine a life without her, but then…but then when I think of you…I could never give you up. Not for her, not for anything. To lose you would be to lose everything I know, everything I've taken for granted. Yes, I _have _taken you for granted, and I'm sorry. Truly sorry. And that is another point – another reason why you are too good for me. You could have anybody you want, in fact every other sane person in England would be head over heels for a chance to be with you…and for all these years I've not given you the consideration and time you deserve. I've given you nothing. As I said, I do not deserve you…but I could not dream of sitting back and watching you simply drift away."

He looked up at me, eyes piercing into my heart. "Why?" he whispered, "Why, Rosella? I've given you nothing, as I said, but you still wish to be my friend. You look after Lily and help me out whenever I need your assistance on a case, when you could be in London in a high position as some powerful young woman, even at this age. Your skill and talent is sought for in the city, and could earn you as much as four figures a year. You could be starting out on a sterling career…and yet, you wish to remain here, second-rate and underappreciated. How can you explain that?"

Before I could reply, heart racing in my ribcage, we were interrupted by a small voice – Lily's voice – from the door, "Rosella does it because she cares about you, Sherlock."

* * *

_Hello dear readers!_

_Sorry again for the long wait, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had lots of fun writing it, and you can be prepared for __lots of fluff and softer emotions __in the chapters to come! You are all amazing, and as per usual, every reviewer, favouriter and follower is mentioned in the detailed dedications of my other story, 'The Things I Do For You, Sherlock Holmes!' __A big hello to Anthea123, and a shout out to all those wonderful people who follow me!__ You are the reason I keep writing! If any of you who read Young Sherlock have any other one-shot or short story ideas/requests, please leave them in a review. I will also be happy to consider any ships you make have…with the __exception of Virginia/Sherlock__. {As you might be able to tell, I'm not exactly a big fan of Ms Crowe, who – I suspect – will either betray our favourite young detective in some way, or (another theory) become Irene Adler}._

_Note: If you know any other Young Sherlock fans, please spread the word about this fanfic – I would love others to join me in writing some more, too!_

_So, once again, happy reading and writing! Until the next chapter, believe me to be…_

_Yours Always,_

_**SherlockedSherlockian**__ xxx_


	7. I Think I'll Spend The Night Here

The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 7)

{This Chapter Is Dedicated To: Littlemisssherlock}

I turned red as my friend's face lit up with a grin. "Comer here, little one," he laughed, picking the girl up into his arms and resting her on his hip. "Is that the reason?"  
Lily nodded. "Yes it is, Sherlock," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "She cares about you very, very much and Virginia is not cleverer or prettier or more confident than her."  
I watched as Sherlock smiled down at her lovingly, "I never said that she was, Lily."  
"Good, because Virginia's not pretty at all and I don't like her hair."

The boy chuckled, "Alright, alright. So, you're staying here tonight, little sister?"  
"Yes, Sherlock. How did you know?"  
"You wouldn't be looking so self-satisfied if you hadn't just persuaded Uncle Sherrinford into something. Since you're currently worried about your governess, I'd wager that it was permission to spend the night here to make sure that she's happy. You know what? I think I'll spend the night here too."  
Lily and I both looked up at him in surprise. I, for my part, had certainly not expected such a reaction. "What of it?" Sherlock grinned, "I've stayed the night here before, haven't I? For a similar purpose, in fact."

I found myself nodding with a shy smile, "I'll go ask a maid to prepare a guestroom – "  
"That would hardly be necessary," the young genius responded, cutting me off as politely as possible. "Our previous arrangement would suit me just fine, you know. Save your maid the trouble."  
Lily raised an eyebrow, while I just bit my lower lip and nodded, the memories flooding back.

It was a few minutes later that the three of us were sat on my bed, with Sherlock reading fairy tales to Violet while I was curled up at his side, occasionally voicing some of the female characters – usually the princesses or damsels in distress, to my amusement. My friend entertained us by employing different accents and speech patterns according to the character who was speaking, and Lily made everything more lively by acting out any ballroom dances, dramatic escapes or curtseys that came up in the story (for practice, she claimed). It was close to two hours before the little girl began to grow gradually less energetic, and before we knew it, Lily was curled up – half-asleep – between Sherlock and myself.

"Mm, someone's tired," Sherlock whispered softly, setting down the book when he heard her little yawn. He switched off the gas lamp on his side of the bed, leaving the room lit dimly with only mine burning on the side table closest to me. Lily just nodded, before she moved under the covers to make herself comfortable, and fell quickly into a peaceful sleep. I smiled affectionately at her, stroking an ebony curl off her face. My friend smiled tenderly at us both before he set the pile of novels to the side, following his younger sister's example by moving beneath the covers. He gestured for me to do the same, whispering quietly, "Come now, you should get some sleep too."

As I turned off the light and settled down myself, Sherlock leaned over to whisper in my ear, "I'm not usually one for sentiment and analogy, but this is just perfect. Maybe Lily and I should spend the night here more often, provided you'd let us."

I nodded in agreement, beaming at him, "I certainly would have no objection to that."  
"Brilliant. By the way, thank you for dinner. It was excellent."  
I truly had to remind myself that sometimes the sweeter compliments of Sherlock's had to be taken at face value, and that he was genuinely just meaning to thank me for the cooking rather than appease or flatter me. I didn't want to infer meaning from his words that simply was not there – I had already hurt myself sufficiently in previously doing so.

I told him, in response, that it was no trouble at all, and closed my eyes. I felt the little bundle of warmth that was Lily move in closer to me, and I put my arm around her, a smile remaining on my face. "Goodnight, Sherlock."  
"Goodnight, Ro. Sleep well."  
And with that, I drifted off.

* * *

Dear Readers,  
Again,_ thank you so much for everything_! A special thank you, as always, goes out to my faithful guest reviewers who check back regularly. I'm sorry I can't always update once a week, but I want you to know that I /never/abandon my stories! I love you all too much.

Also, please check out LittlemissSherlock's new Young Sherlock story, which was inspired by this Fanfiction. Once again, if you have any ships you would like written (apart from Sherlock/Virginia XD) I would be happy to oblige! These holidays, I hope to get up to date with my reading and write some one-shots, too. Setting up this category on was one of the best things I ever did, because I met so many of you fellow YSH fans! Please spread this fic and – if you have not already done so – visit wwwdotyoungsherlockdotcom for news on Andrew Lane's series. Thanks to all my readers, and as usual, a shout out to you all!

Hello and thank you to: Erielle Assassin pauu cullenn A man who fell from the sky Littlemisssherlock

P.S., for BBC Sherlock fans, check out my current story 'The Things I Do For You, Sherlock Holmes!' I've mentioned you guys on there as well. **My offer for BBC Johnlock or Young Sherlock roleplays/co-authored fanfictions over email still stands!**

Until the next update (which you can feel free to nag me for), I am:

**Yours truly,**

**SherlockedSherlockian xxx**


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